A Hackwith - The Library of the Unwritten

It made sense. Death was the way you traveled between realms. The echo of the raven roads had never really left him, but he wasn’t panicking now. Like the tumblers turning in a lock, everything fell into place inside him. He studied the glimmering sheen of the platforms, the whiteness of the feather, and the shadowy hollow of the crocodile’s jaws beyond.

THE LIBRARIAN APPROACHED.

Ramiel raised his brows at her, though his eyes made sure to track where her two companions wandered, just at the edge of the gate’s vision. It was a disorienting thing; the portal was built into the floor, superimposed over the pile of bones. He had to crouch over it, but Claire walked toward him straight on, as if it were simply a doorway on her side. The effect made his neck stiff.

The Hellhounds had departed by the time he ventured into the catacombs, though the deep claw marks on the stone signified some struggle had occurred. He noted the librarian was missing the mysterious fourth companion who had pulled her through the ward at the Mdina bridge. He saw no sign of a body. He could only wonder what the price of their escape had been.

That she and her remaining companions had passed through an undocumented afterworld gate was obvious. Uriel said she’d known the gate to every surviving realm on the island, but as soon as he entered the ruins, following the Hellhound trail, it was obvious this one was not accounted for.

He located the gate at the bottom of the mass grave fast enough, urged on by the scent of death and loss that swamped the entire catacomb. It resisted as he approached, repulsed by his foreign presence. His vision had allowed him to thin the barrier enough to see and hear, but whatever ritual was required to satisfy the ancient gate was unknown to him. He knew these ruins belonged to a long-dead water god, but the worshippers had died out long before.

As long as he had them cut off from escape, he was doing his duty. If the way out of the strange realm was barred in front of them, they would have to come out soon enough.

“So. Your duty.” The librarian crossed her arms. “Your duty to ‘ensure we don’t interfere,’ meaning that the moment we cross back over, you detain us—in one piece if we’re lucky?”

Rami raised his chin. “I can swear you’ll be treated with the mercy and justice of Heaven.”

“Is that the same justice that turned the Hounds on us once we were no longer a bargaining chip? I don’t believe I have the stomach for your justice, Ramiel.”

Damn Uriel and her madness. “You can trust—”

“You’ve given me no reason to trust.” Claire cut him off with a sharp hand wave. “How can you simply stand there and do nothing while demonic forces overtake the Library?”

It was a disingenuous argument at best. Rami shrugged. “It’s in Hell. Aren’t demons always in the Library?”

“You don’t know what chaos Andras is willing to unleash to get his title back.” She shook her head. “Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘better the devil you know…’?”

“I have tried not to know more than I have to.”

“Strikes me you had more occasion to know the man in charge than I have,” Claire said.

Rami bit down hard on a curse.

But she knew her history. He’d followed Lucifer when they’d fallen, abandoned Heaven. Not because he agreed with him or believed in the cause—Rami was not as ambitious as that. But because he was a Watcher, one of the old ones first sent to aid and teach the Creator’s fledgling creation on Earth. He’d taken that duty seriously.

And when man suffered, when Rami’s charges were dying in droves for lack of food or an abundance of disease that they lacked the knowledge to resist… the Watchers had taught them how to survive. The Creator had deemed it “forbidden knowledge.” And so the Watchers had followed Lucifer when the Gates of Heaven shut forever behind them.

It had been the first time he’d seen what the madness of angels could lead to. Rami had never regretted the cause of the Fall, though the result had not sat well with him. He’d lingered, watching Lucifer bandy his forces and establish a domain of his own. But he wasn’t an empire builder. He wasn’t a leader. His heart was still with his duty, the humans on Earth. Not as pawns in a futile war with Heaven, but as creatures with budding potential that could be protected. He hadn’t always done a good job of it. Doubting, wandering over the next millennia. But it had been the only path that made sense to him.

Until Uriel had offered him the position in Purgatory.

Until a strange little accountant had walked up to his bench and dropped in his lap a problem that caught Heaven’s eye.

Until Uriel had revealed her bloodlust. Until a librarian decided to show a stubborn sense of honor and complicated everything.

Rami almost found himself wishing for the Purgatory desk again.

But then, he knew he would not be returning to the Gates, no matter how this played out. Rami had only his duty left. “I am no friend of the Deceiver. Do not look for sympathies where you will find none.”

Rami noted that Claire’s companions had stopped in front of the scales in the creature’s maw. A furtive argument started. The gangly demon with wild curls—Leto, he remembered; Claire insisted he was human—gestured wildly at the handsome swordsman, motioning past the monstrous creature in the water. The man appeared upset, a crinkle appearing on his perfect brow. He could have been an angel, were it not for the calculating way his gaze flicked to the arch and back. The swordsman shook his head hard, and the argument continued. Rami could not hear the words spoken, and Claire’s intense displeasure was focused entirely on him, which meant the librarian was not aware of the discussion occurring behind her.

Curious.

She tapped her fingers on her crossed arms. “What if we offered to leave one of us with you, a hostage? A guarantee that we are striking no offense to Heaven. Your sadistic partner did seem to enjoy terrifying those she had in her grasp, but if you swear no harm would come to him, I could allow Leto to stay while I set things right.” The woman’s eyes went distant, concerned. “That might actually be the safest place for him.”

Rami ignored the offer and the opinion of Uriel, but picked up on the worry in her eyes. “Are you certain you’re fighting a battle you can win?”

“The books need protecting. It’s my library, and I won’t relinquish it. But…” Determination drained out of Claire with a breath, leaving behind something gentle and tired. “I’m old enough to know the costs of any victory.”

Behind her, the argument had met a begrudging standoff. The swordsman had resorted to pleading, shaking his head, but the teenage boy seemed set on something. They traded quiet words and shook hands. The teenager asked something, and the taller man, after a long silence, nodded. Then the teenager looked toward Rami, gaze lingering on the librarian’s back. It was a look so filled with unspoken ache that Rami was surprised Claire didn’t feel it. And then the teenager turned and walked toward the mouth of the beast.